Into the Fire
by Artanis
Summary: Abelina, Sorrow's Blood. An elvhen slave of the Tevinter Imperium, she is purchased by Danarius and brought to Minrathous. And learns just how cruel the magisters really are...
1. Chapter 1

-1**Author's Note: **Last thing I need right now is to start another fanfic :P. Disenchanted HP fans will come beat me with a stick if I don't update soon. XD But I really couldn't resist this one. Hopefully you'll enjoy it and not find this first chapter to horribly long. I'll only continue if I get a few rave reviews, because I've got so many projects going already but I absolutely adore Dragon Age and I've been holding off on this idea for a while but finally couldn't take it anymore.

"_Freedom is strangely ephemeral. It is something like breathing, one only becomes acutely aware of it's importance when one is choking." _**~William Simon**

Abelina is the name that I am called. It is a bastardization of the old dalish phrases, with a meaning which I have been told is 'sorrow blood'. Appropriate, perhaps, for my mother died giving birth to me. A wild-caught slave of the Tevinter Imperium, she was never intended to be a good little house slave. But she was beautiful and the magisters do so love beautiful things…so they did not want to waste her beauty when it could so readily be passed to her children.

I do not know my father, as I did not know my mother. Such is the life of the common elvhen slave. As was intended, I was cursed with what must have been a comely division of both parents looks and blessed with no sense of whatever freedom they believed in. Freedom is as unreachable as the sky and I hate to disappoint you, but slaves do not dream of it. Slaves who wish to live, that is.

The Creator smiled on me however briefly when I was purchased at the age of ten years, for I was not bought by a cruel mistress but a merciful one. A discreet mistress who does not own a grand mansion in the centre of the Imperium but a stable on the outskirts of Minrathous, where the magisters horses are stabled. I am naïve in the ways of the capital for I have not been within it's grasp since I was purchased, but from what I have heard the other girls tell of it…their words chill me. Many of the other elvhen girls I work beside were not purchased by my mistress until much later than I. They worked brothels, places that ruined them fast.

The magisters and Tevinter citizens value obedience and subservience, but they do not want their toys broken. Slaves with no spirit live short lives. Mistress Sarnai is a firm mistress, but she reasons that horses do not care whether or not their caretakers have spirit, so long as they are fed on time.

Sarnai took pity on me when I was young and I have only ever once asked her why. She flew into a rage and beat me with a riding crop. I would learn never to ask such a thing again, and discussed it once with the other slaves who would speak to me. It was then that I learned that though I was elvhen, I bore resemblance to my mistress's late daughter. I was bought on a whim, out of guilt. It made more sense to me then, why when the other slave girls were to cut their hair, I was instructed to leave mine long and worn in a style that covered my ears. Though a twisted and warped form of mercy and fate, I was grateful for it. I would rather keep my head down and muck stalls for the rest of my life than work in a brothel or as a house companion.

So my life continued in such a way, and I was careful to keep a low profile when the magisters came to ride their beasts. And I was even more careful to never, ever reveal my magic. The Imperium coveted mages and if anyone knew of my magic, if my mistress knew…I do not know if she would turn from me in disgust or recognize just how high a price I would fetch. I do not know what masters are like in the other nations of Thedas, but the Tevinter's are a shrewd people. Guilt over a long lost daughter would only last so long with Sarnai and so I tried my best to please her by doing my job thoroughly and by being as much her slave as the animals for which I cared for.

But one morning, it was not enough.

I was cleaning the last stall of the morning shift, late because one of the other girls had fallen ill. This particular slave girl had fallen ill multiple times and Sarnai was beginning to doubt her usefulness. I did not wish to see her sold, so I had taken up her chores as well as my own that day and was in a rush to get it done, lest my mistress should appear. I remember every blighted detail of my last day at the stable in Neromenian:

I stood ankle deep in muck, my nostrils burning with the familiar sent of soiled straw. It had been raining for weeks now with only intermittent breaks during which the suffocating air became hot and humid, thickened until it coated weary limbs with a film of heaviness. Beads of sweat trickled between my shoulder blades and dampened the pale champagne blonde of the hair at my nape, stinging my eyes and making it difficult to see in the dark stall. The only light emanated in latticed patches from the front of the half a wall of bars that allowed one to view the animal within without allowing the horses to stick their heads out into the main aisle and disturb routine. A shadow in the shape of a man fell across the already sparse light and I felt a strange buzz in my fingertips, the kind of buzz I'd only ever experienced once when handling lyrium-I looked up.

I would look back on the scene and shudder, wish that I had neglected to help Earani with her duties; wish that I had been anywhere else but where I was then. Wish that the powerful magister Danarius who was to become my master had not looked over at the precise moment the stalls occupant nickered. But there is no good in wishing, and no comfort in dwelling. I will describe to you what I saw upon the cursory glance upwards:

A male elf was standing at the stall door, watching me with his keen green eyes. He was harsh and forbidding, his gauntleted arms crossed over his armored chest and his stance that of a warrior. In the gloom, illuminated by the graying light outside the stall, his intricate white tattoos seemed to me to sparkle and glow. A strange surge of wanting, of lust rose within me just looking at this unfamiliar elf and his strangely appealing markings. I had never seen any of the elvhen with white hair who had not attained a great age, and this man looked only a few years older than I. He was beautiful and dangerous and I did not know whether to be flattered or horrified by his regard.

"Master," His voice was deep and pleasantly rough. "this is where the horse mistress indicated the animal you wished to purchase was being held."

Master. This elf was a slave as I was, but judging by his attire, he was a body guard. And to the man who wished to buy the sleek, chestnut stallion rubbing his head on my shoulder. It took me a long moment to find my voice and an inordinate amount of time to think of something to say with it:

"I…do you require-?" I hesitated, not knowing the proper manner in which to address this body guard…or even if I should. An older man, resplendent in the robes of a magister, strode into view and I immediately quailed under his regard.

This magister gave a frightening impression of colourlessness, with his grey eyes and grey hair and pale complexion. The three women with him were clearly not slaves, even the red-headed elvhen one walking three respectful steps behind the two humans. The lesser of the two was a young female mage, her sky blue robes indicative of her apprenticeship. The woman roughly the same age as the magister, her chocolate curls coiled with silver, slunk up beside him and turned up her pointed nose at the messy stall.

"Danarius, my love, why must we venture too such horrid places when we have occasion to leave Minrathous? The smell of this place and the broken slaves trudging around are positively repellent." She linked an arm with her husband who comforted her with an absent touch. But he was watching me, with a gaze so intent it could have been that of a lidless reptile.

"Girl." Danarius spoke clearly, his tone oily even though it commanded obedience. "Bring that animal out into the light where we can actually see it, would you."

I should have hidden, I should have smeared myself with manure or something of the like. But I did not. I calmly gripped the horses rope halter and lead him out into full view, the magister and his small entourage stepping back to give me room as the stallion pranced around, the hollow sound of hoof and steel striking stone reverberating around the enclosed space. I heard short intake of breath and was sure they must be admiring the proud animal beside me. One would have to be blind to not see that the stallion was beautiful, a glorious example of a wealthy man's mount. I kept my gaze focused on the cobbles beneath my boots, for I knew enough of magisters to know that they did not appreciate being looked in the eye by slaves.

"Well, what do you think?" Came a snappish female voice. Sarnai! I nearly forgot myself and glanced up, feeling guilty. She would know I was not supposed to be here. I peeked out of the corner of my eye and saw the elf again, leaning up against the edge of the stall. Relaxed but ready should his master be attacked…he saw me looking at him and I focused on the cobblestones once more. The magister ran his hands over the horse, down the animals legs to feel for heat and over the gleaming coat.

"Of the horse? Or of your girl slave?" A chill ran through me as I felt the magister's eyes on me, felt his presence but a hairs-breadth behind me. His hand caressed my backside and I jumped in shock, the horse beside me jerking in surprise and nearly hitting the magister's apprentice in the face with his muzzle.

This sudden, unintentionally defiant movement was a mistake. Danarius's hand went from my backside to the back of my neck and forced me to bend at the waist. He rammed his elbow into my back and I cried out in pain and fell to my knees. Danarius chuckled and made a tutting sound, the tips of his boots inches from my nose and his hand still fisted cruelly in my hair. "My my, and she's still got spirit. Wild caught?"

"Bred." Sarnai's voice was, for once, grim and quiet.

"But from wild caught stock, I assume? She does not have that inbred, docile appearance. All the bred slaves come all doe-eyed and half-broken these days. She looks wild. " Danarius slid two fingers under my chin and tipped my head up. In my panic, I almost resisted him.

"Look at me, Elf." Meeting his gaze, I couldn't help but swallow in horror. He was smiling appreciatively and his wife had a similar expression from where she regarded me from over his shoulder. She spoke, her nasally voice making me think of the buzz of a biting fly.

"How did a horse mistress afford such a pretty pet, I wonder. She must have broken the bank…and you let her keep her hair long. Let it down, slave, so we might see it." I reached up with one trembling hand only to have her snatch my wrist and twist it painfully, her smile transformed into a sneer of venom. " What do you say, slave?"

"I-Yes, Mistress!" She released my wrist and ripped my hair from it's bun, pulling hard at the bun and wrenching it from it's roots. I gritted my teeth, resisted the urge to defend myself against her assault. She ceased as soon as my hair spilled around my shoulders in a soft, light golden sheet. Covetously, she ran her fingers through it.

"She's rather rough, Horse Mistress. Do you not train your unbroken slaves?"

"Forgive me, magister Lacrea. She is a common barn slave and works more with horses than with her betters. She knows her place, but she is forgetful. But the horse-" Sarnai addressed Danarius wife, half-bowing before she tried to return attention to the horse. Lacrea ignored her, dragging me into a standing position with one hand in my hair.

"Fenris! Come stand beside this girl slave, I want to see the pair of you standing together." The white haired elf inclined his head and mumbled 'yes, mistress' and came to stand beside me, so close that we touched shoulder to shoulder. I recognized the buzzing then, the lust to be closer to him and the feeling of strength. _Lyrium_. His tattoos were lyrium! His price must be exorbitant, certainly mine and the horses combined worth twice over! I glanced at him before Lacrea jerked my chin to face her, stepping back to admire us. She beckoned to the young apprentice, clearly her female confidant. "What do you think, Hadriana? Would she not be the talk of Minrathous? My husband with his body guard and I, with my obedient but wild caught handmaiden? They both have that _wildness _about them"

Hadriana approached, reaching out and running her fingers over my face, turning my face this way and that. She reach down to lightly cup one of my breasts and squeeze, her mouth twisting sideways as though I did not quite meet her expectations. My hand fluttered with the urge to push her away, but I felt metal clad fingers clamp onto my wrist and force me to be still as Hadriana's perusal continued down my legs. Imperceptibly, Fenris squeezed and released my wrist and I let out a breath as Hadriana stepped back.

"Mayhap, if you can scrub off all the filth and get rid of the smell." The two women laughed uproariously at this before sobering. Lacrea turned to her husband, pouting her lips like a child.

"I desire her, my heart." Danarius smiled at his wife and turned to Sarnai, who was looking increasingly upset. She could not deny magisters.

"I would never pay three hundred sovereigns for one animal. If you throw in the girl slave-" Danarius looked at me and frowned. "What are you called?"

"Abelina, Master."

"Ah, with an almost dalish name, too. If you throw in Abelina, I will match your price." Sarnai looked from one magister to another, helpless before their lupine smiles. But she was a horse mistress, and had not gotten where she was today by meekly backing down. Taking a deep breath, my mistress squared her shoulders and I felt a surge of hope. As interesting and frightening an encounter as this had been, I had no desire to be a magisters handmaiden.

"Abelina alone is worth three hundred sovereigns. She's spirited and unspoiled." There were gasps of delight from Lacrea and Hadriana and the elf beside me-Fenris-shifted uncomfortably. Even in the humid air, I could feel the blood rush to the tips of my ears and my cheeks. It was the first time I can ever remember being embarrassed by my mistress so proudly proclaiming my assets.

"Well," Danarius drawled, his smile widening. "Unspoiled? I'm tempted to call you a liar, horse mistress. But that would explain why she was so…shy about being touched. She blushes prettily, does she not Fenris?"

I would have balked at being asked to submit my opinion, had our positions been reversed. But Fenris merely dipped his head in agreement and spoke the customary 'yes, Master'. I realized then that Danarius did not care to hear his slave's actual opinion, he just wished to assert his dominance.

"Well, my little wolf, you've proven that that sort of thing can be trained away." Danarius smirked and turned to Sarnai, pulling a pouch of gold from his hip. "How does four hundred sovereigns sound?"

"Five hundred."

"Four hundred and fifty and not a copper more for both horse and girl." Sarnai looked at me, her scowl pained. The silence stretched for a moment before my former mistress sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat:

"Sold."


	2. Chapter 2

-1**Author's Note: **Yay for the two reviews on the first chapter, and for the subscriptions. Really love to get actual reviews, because they help tell me what I'm doing well and/or really kind of botching. Thanks again for the support! :D

"_All the worlds a cage." _**~ Jeanne Phillips**

* * *

><p>Blood. I could taste it, smell it, feel the warm trickle in my throat as each breath rasped through my throat with every agonizing inhalation. My lungs felt like they were on fire, my limbs as though they were made of lead and with each pump of my heart was a quavering that I felt sure must proceed death. It was not that I had done anything wrong, it was not that I had not obeyed. Tears…I did not know when they had begun or from what hidden reserve of salt water they sprang, burned the already sore and freshly drawn <em>vallaslin<em> inked across my brow and cheekbones.I could not draw air fast enough to compensate for the deficit brought on by having to run chained to the carriage. And I had been running since first light.

My last day in Neromenian had been a harrowing affair with the sole purpose of 'prettying me up wild' for my grand debut back in Minrathous. I was to play a part, to seem a grand new boost to Danarius and Lacrea's reputation for retraining difficult slaves. Fenris had looked at me in the bright sunlight of the area just free of the stable with the first real emotion I'd seen from him. And it had been a bitter mix of anger and pity.

Staggering through the noontide heat, my knee high leather boots-yesterday morning freshly made-bore the scuff marks of my five league long journey. As I stared at my feet, my vision doubling in my exhaustion, a drop of bloody saliva slid from the corner of my mouth and fell in the dust between cobbles. A crust of garnet from where I had tripped earlier and skinned my knees stood out against the ashen skin and twined rustily over the boots. My outfit-for that is what it was, modeled to look as though it were something a Dalish huntress would wear-was a scanty thing, made of green and brown doeskin, the pauldrons of some exotic looking bronze feathering. Flimsy, decorative chain mail clung to the sweat that coated my bare abdomen; sticky with the icy white trails of salt that stuck to it's ringlets.

I must have looked horrific, a half-dead slave panting after a grand carriage. How could this mockery be seen to make my new masters look? But no, all the Tevinter citizens saw was the beauty in my agony. For all of it; the new clothes and the _vallaslin, _the dark paint they had caked around my eyes and the lips, just the sheer act of cruelty in dragging me behind the carriage…t'was for show. As though I had been freshly plucked from some rebel Dalish camp. They loved the spectacle, in the way that they loved it when the Rivaini brought them freshly caged animals. I'd seen horses, perfectly docile and obedient animals; ridden to death just because they looked tragically lovely as they plunged to the ground as their hearts failed. I was too tired to panic by the time I realized this.

For the hours unnumbered that I had run, Fenris had run beside me. He had not looked at me, had not spoken to me. He kept pace with the cart without difficulty, did not move to help me or to warn his masters the few times that I had fallen and ripped up my knees. I do not know what I expected of him, but it is a mystery how I have earned his hate so quickly. I'd seen his markings glimmer with his irritation when I allowed Hadriana to fasten the deceptively delicate looking shackles to my hands, fit a slender silverite collar embedded with lyrium around my throat. I did not want to be hurt again, so I did as I was asked. And Fenris-_little wolf_-seemed to hate me for it.

You might ask why I did not attempt to buoy my condition with magic. The truth is, I have never used my magic consciously or to great effect. I do not know how to heal, the most basic of the magic's. Nor had I ever endeavored to learn, the repercussions of being caught were simply too risky. While I had not consciously attempted to use my magic, I felt certain that simply it's presence in my body was the only reason I had not died halfway to Minrathous.

The carriage jerked as it bumped over a gutter in the lane and pain flared in my wrists and shoulders as I was yanked forward for the twentieth time that morning. My trembling legs tangled with one another and I could not help but let out a cry as I slammed into the stone. The pain was outshone by the relief at being off my own feet, even as my body ground against the paving stones and my flesh tore. I could not bring my hands beneath me to push myself up, nor could I find the strength to bring myself to my feet. The sun left spots of colour dancing in my eyes, but in the last pain filled glimpse of the city of Minrathous that I had been too tired to wonder at, I saw a young Tevinter boy staring at me. Eyes like the sky, skin like the sandstone I was bleeding on. His smile was proud with cruelty.

"…Come along now, open your mouth. Wider. Yes, that's it. Well done, my pet." Danarius's voice was so politely insistent, syrupy and smooth as oil. Lukewarm water trickled into my mouth, quenching to some degree the fire in my raw throat. I coughed and felt it stream down my chin. I struggled to push myself up on an elbow, my eyelids flickering open. Danarius was kneeling over me, a water skin in one hand. His presence blotted out the sun and his smile was very tolerant and he leaned back and stood. "All better now?"

My tongue felt like dry leather and I had to roll it around in my mouth for a minute before I could speak. As I struggled to remember what had happened I caught sight of Fenris looming behind our master, his expression unreadable. I felt better than I had in hours, noticed with horror that my knees had been healed. Quickly, frightened, I looked up at Danarius and spoke:

"Master, I am sorry! I did not mean to-" The magister held up a hand, his smile growing wider. Fenris turned his back abruptly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Shush, shush. We won't have any of that. Lacrea had hoped you would accompany her to the market today but I have persuaded her that you still need some finishing. That and I doubt you have the energy. Come, on your feet." The healing had helped a great deal, though I swayed dangerously as I recovered my footing. The shackles on my wrists were still there and my collar was still clasped in place, heavy on my arms and neck. The carriage was gone and I noticed with some alarm the length of the bloody spackled trail I had left in my wake.

"Fenris?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Attend to Abelina, if you would. I trust no passably successful attempts will be made on my life today. See to it that she gets back to the mansion. After she is rested, you have the day to familiarise her with the way things are done in Minrathous." Danarius's robes swept around his legs as he turned from us, beckoning a few guards to him with a casual wave of his hand.

"But Master-" Danarius turned and for the first time, I saw something truly dark flicker in his colorless eyes. Fenris gritted his teeth and took a respectful step back from his master, bowing his head in . This was the first rebellious inclination I'd ever seen my partner in servitude demonstrate and it puzzled me. Danarius had practically given him the day off and he tried to refuse. Was I truly such a horrible indisposition?

_Bastard_. I glared at the back of Fenris's head and willed the curse at him with all my might.

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><p>Our journey to the mansion passed in a mutual sort of stony, angry silence. This I was unused to. There had been fellow slaves with whom I had not seen eye to eye with before, but the unprecedented and silent hostility was not what I was used to. I'd had a fight with a female slave once, she'd wanted to put out my eyes. I had…stopped her. Permanently. It had been an accident, one everyone blessedly blamed on a poor heart and not on magic. Fenris was annoyed with me, furious with me and without cause.<p>

"What is it?"

"Mhm?" His voice cut through my musing and I realized I'd been watching him, apparently without subtlety. Fenris turned his head to regard me with his dark, poison green eyes.

"Why are you staring at me?" The depth of his voice, initially attractive now carried a low note of menace.

"How long did you wait to stop the carriage?" I fired back, a question to his question. We were both slaves and now that I was not a barn slave, I felt as though the footing had been evened somewhat. His lips twisted and his dark brows furrowed angrily.

"How prettily you simpered to a Master aiming to run you to death."

"A while, then."

"I stopped them immediately, you were unconscious for several minutes. Lacrea was worried she'd killed _another _personal maid." The way he said 'another' was not without a certain amount of gleeful malice in his tone and my horror must have shown in my expression because for a moment it seemed as though his eyes softened with inscrutable sadness. "Danarius had no trouble healing you, as I knew he would. You live to be pathetically grateful another day and that is all that matters."

"Is this your way of saying we will not be friends, no matter how I behave?" I hedged, trying to be polite as he seemed to finally be making something of an effort. Immediately, I realized I had misspoken in some subtle way for his face twisted to it's angry grimace once more.

"I am not your master, why should you try to change your behaviour to please me? And you are incorrect, we shall have to become the best and fastest of friends, you and I. Yes, I count this as unfortunate. But none of this matters unless you manage to survive the first fortnight under this roof-" We'd finally come to the mansion, or more like the entry courtyard to the mansion. I lost all interest in whatever Fenris was jabbering about as I gazed at the splendor of it all before me.

All was decked out in what must be Danarius's coat of arms and most of it was in the two colour's he seemed to favour: a pallid grey and a rich, plum purple. All metal was silver like in tone, stone a solid, dappled granite gray marble. All of it was more beauty than I'd ever seen in my-Fenris's fist bumped me beneath my chin and I nearly bit my tongue as my teeth snapped together.

"Stop gawking like a street rat and pay attention. I will not relate all of this information over again if you fail to listen the first time. Do not speak to the house slaves, they are below us in their ranking. Speaking to them will be construed as rude-"

"Why?" Fenris biffed me across the back of the head like an angry tom cat.

"Vanhedis, da'asha! Do not interrupt me! It is rude because your first and only concern should always be your mistress and masters safety and comfort. You cannot waste your valuable attention on house slaves." House slaves? Was that not what we were, slaves living in a house? I asked Fenris this, leaning against a doorframe as I did so.

"House slaves? We are not-" He bristled and then pinched the bridge of his nose with his gauntleted fingers, gaining control of himself. "You are clearly too tired to do this now. I will show you to your room myself so one of the bastavas does not lead you astray."

I followed Fenris in silence, staggering and feeling the exhaustion weigh on me as we traveled down the beautiful corridors before finally coming to a large suite of rooms at the end of a hallway the width and breadth of a small road. We entered into the suite and I stared around in shock. He was mocking me and I turned to tell him so, only for him to grab me by the elbow and start dragging me through the area, so I only caught glimpses of the elegant excess. Finally he slowed enough that I was able to right myself in the direction we were traveling, into a master bedroom with two doors on either side of the bed.

"This is their shared bedroom, they also have separate beds if they occasion arises. Lacrea is left, Danarius is right. Where does that put you?" I stared at him as though he'd spoken in dwarf tongue. But he looked expectant and impatient so I blurted the first thing I could think of to mutter.

"In the middle-?"

"All the beauty and none of the brains. ON THE LEFT. Lacrea is on the left so hence you are on the left. I am on the right. Vanhedis." He propelled me to the left door, opening it and pushing me inside before closing it behind him. He gestured absently to the right hand wall: "Third panel. Push on it and it's the entrance to my quarters. In the case of an emergency. It's not a through-way so do not treat it as such."

I gazed around the room: There was a single bed-_a bed_!-raised in a frame and with what looked like _two _mattress's! With fancy cover sheets, too. A small table in the corner and a dresser, an oval mirror-my reflection caught my eye and I gasped in shock, striding across the room to clutch the mirror and stare at myself. The tattoos, the _vallaslin…_they were stunning. Green and silver ink painted my skin, curved like thorny vines and still swollen and red with the freshness of their infliction.

The aggressive, sloping and jagged lines had at first displeased Varania who had shouted at the aging elf in the alienage, but my tattooist had held up his hands gleefully and claimed that the markings were nothing less than a seth'lin deserved. They were, like my name, something of an undeserved corruption of their cultural significance. Dalish received the vallaslin upon coming of age and their marks paid homage to one of the Dalish deities. Hunters normally receive markings that are fashioned after the goddess Andruil. My eyes had been emphasized with leaf like dagger shapes that made my gray eyes appear slanted, predatory. These were the marks of Fen'Harel, the great trickster who walked without fear among both the gods of the heavens and those of the abyss, who trapped them forever without care for his people. But they were also spidered across my forehead and to my lips like the jagged grasp of talons, the marks associated with the Forgotten goddess of pain and spite: Anaris.

Hands on the clasps at the back of my neck made me jump and I felt three dagger sharp points pierce the skin of my nape and yelped in pain as Fenris jerked his hand back too late to avoid injuring me, blood painting the tips of his gauntlets. What was-!

"_Desina_!" He caught my wrist before my wild flail could make contact, his expression grim but surprised. I felt sure he was going to kill me but instead he released me, wiping away my blood on the leather breeches of his armor. "I was merely attempting to take off your collar for you as you cannot do it yourself."

"You attacked me!" I accused, stepping back from him and bumping into the small dresser.

"Do not be a fool, if I wished you harm I would have killed you already." In a sharp, abrupt movement he snapped the clasps on my shackles and undid them. "You must become more accustomed to casual touch or else be punished for flinching. I recommend you avoid Hadriana if and when possible."

"Why?" Fenris turned on me, the lyrium flaring to life across his skin as he snarled:

"Stop asking why!" As quickly as his anger had flared, it disappated to quiet anger: "Get some rest. You will need it."

With that, he slammed the panel shut and I collapsed onto the bed, three streams of blood tickling as they ran between my shoulder blades. I sat numbly for a moment, staring at my knees. Finally, after what seemed an age, I mustered up enough will to peel off my boots and clothes, hanging them over a bed post. Curious, I pulled a shift from the drawer and pulled it over my sticky, dirty, sweaty body. It was the best I could do, as I had no will to venture out in search of a bath. I curled on my side in the bed before realizing that it was too soft for me to ever be able to sleep in. Pretty though, I reflected as I drifted off to sleep beneath it.

In my sleep, I dreamt I was trapped in the bottom of a cold, clear pool. A white wolf looked down at me from the gray world above, lips curled back over his sword-sharp teeth. And yet he could not flee, for his lyrium traced paws were frozen fast to the ice that encased me. Imprisoned together ,nose to nose in the eternal winter twilight.

I could not break free.


	3. Chapter 3

-1**Author's Note: **Bit of a wait, but I think I'm actually updating this fairly regularly. Go me! XD But yes, read and review and see what you think of the new character…and Hadrianna's evilness. Also, thank you everyone who's been reviewing! I'm sorry I haven't had the time to reply... :(

"_Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." _**~ Thomas Gray**

"Ah!" I gasped as Fenris stopped abruptly and I slammed into his lithe but solid frame. Three days after my harrowing run and I was still weak enough that this simple action caused me to fall to the floor with all the coordination of a child. Still, I could not help but be annoyed with him for slamming to a stop in front of me when he was fully aware of the fact that I wasn't used to following behind another person.

"Must you strive to make every action infinitely difficult? Find your own footsteps and walk in those!" I doubted the existence of a man alive, slave or no, who could sound more harassed and put upon than Fenris had these last few days while trying to 'finish' me.

"You stopped!" I insisted, scrabbling to my feet before anyone could notice. The sad truth was that we hadn't even left the mansion yet and I'd already managed to botch things.

"Yes, and what if I had been Lacrea? Do you want to know what magisters do to slaves who trip over them?" I remained silent and glared at the floor, wanting more than ever to be able to hide myself away in some nook where no one would be able to find me to scold and shout. Pathetic? Yes. Childish? Most definitely. But I was overwhelmed by all of it. "Terrible, painful things. Do you want that-"

"You are fed and kept well, Fenris. Do you not see how fortunate you are? Yes, our Masters are strict. But that's no reason to-" I have to bite back a yelp as Fenris grips my arms so hard I fear he is trying to break them.

"Are you still fool enough to think driving you to the brink of death was an accident! Why I am wasting my time trying to save your pathetic excuse for a life is beyond me-" I know I should not speak, I know so little of where I am and what my duty is, but Fenris…I do not understand him.

"Why must everything be a matter of life and death with you? You are being overly dramatic. I do not see the walls papered with the hide of the slaves who have gone before us-" Whatever else I had been planning to say is lost in his growl. Very literally an actual, animalistic growl. There was once a Ferelden who came the stable, a mercenary working as a slaver, who'd owned a giant mabari. I hated dogs and creatures that were dog-like…some sort of foreign, terrifying child hood memory that was too fuzzy to properly recall but warned me off all the same. Fenris sounded like the wolf he was named for as he snarled down my rebuttal.

"You will see. And when you see you will be sorry."

"Do not get all high and mighty with me, Fenris. I'm not an idiot." I shot back, with far less confidence than I truly felt. He opened his mouth like he was going to shout something else and then closed it abruptly, dropping to his knees with a swiftness that suggested panic. I whirled and did the same, the leather of another completely impractical and scanty Dalish outfit making a soft rustling sound as I did so.

"Hello, little wolves! I can hear your yipping from all the way down the hall. Lacrea and Danarius want the house to themselves and I've been sent out on an errand. Why don't the two of you accompany me?" Hadriana reached out and mussed my already wildly untidy hair, deceptively slender fingers tickling down the bridge of my nose to run her fingernails across my bottom lip. I stayed still and was proud of myself for it, especially when the scent of another's blood filled my nose. The very smell of blood was something that was burned into Hadriana's skin, remained present forever on the smell of Danarius's breath and in the softness of Lacrea's brown and silver-laced curls.

"Has Danarius bid us do so, Mistress Hadriana?"

"Of course, slave. Did you not hear me the first time?" I had but the breadth of a second to curse Fenris for his selfishness and stupidity before Hadriana grabbed the tip of my pointed ear and wrenched. No one but a fellow elf could possibly know how painful it is to have your ear tips yanked on. They are, barring perhaps our more discreet regions, the most sensitive parts of our bodies. I would rather have had her slap me across my still healing face with all her considerable might. "Abelina, stand up."  
>I stood and allowed her to place the lyrium collar around my throat, trying not to wince as it snapped shut and hung heavy on my neck. Never had I been collared so frequently before now, and for so long at a time. It had started to leave a red ring around the flesh where it's burning cold metal rubbed. Hadriana clipped a lyrium threaded chain to it and handed the end to Fenris. The chain was purely for show and wildly unnecessary. Any magister could manipulate the lyrium in the collar and have me on the ground, writhing in agony, within seconds.<p>

We followed docilely behind Hadriana out into the streets of Minrathous. Customarily, she'd have had us carry her around in a litter; but it seemed she had little flair for such dramatics today and felt we were shown off to our best advantage while walking with her. This was indeed so, for many of the other Magisters and mage apprentices looked on us with covetous envy. Sarnai had truly released me into Danarius's ownership for a song…but where the coin for me had been lacking, the mercy for her was evident. She could not have refused his final offer and expected to live. It was the principal of the thing.

Fenris remained painfully silent and refused to look at me as we journeyed through the market district. I had infuriated him and he clearly believed that my lifespan in my current state of total ignorance was not long enough to merit any advice he might have the heart to impart to me. Thusly, I was left to my own observation to conclude the direction of our visit and the purpose of the various buildings and sights. More than once, I noted Fenris's tension while walking through an area. He would give off his faint, lyrium luminescence and his right hand would twitch like it was about to flash back over his shoulder and snatch his broadsword. I wondered at it, but did not question him. Hadriana was too alert for us to have any sort of muffled conversation and certainly not the argument it would surely turn into.

Fenris stopped and I caught myself before slamming into him this time, though Hadriana kept walking. I peered around his shoulder, though perhaps I should have relied on the internal sense of the thing rather than the vision that met my eyes. The Slave Markets. The only place in Minrathous through which the legally contracted slaves could be bought and bred. The slave markets in Neromenian were mere shadows of this grand, opulent structure. It stank of sweat and refuse and the cages clustered around the building were full of filthy, frightened slaves. Some of them were even human-but it was clear that the elves were more in demand. I had seen more moral horse auctions…and that was saying something.

"They are non-contract slaves. All of them are as you are intended to seem: wild caught. Some are brought from alienages but very few are Dalish. You have quite a mock reputation to uphold." Fenris spoke rather more loudly as the wailing around us was able to sufficiently keep his words from Hadriana.

"Fenris, why are we here?" I was panting, unnerved and severely out of my element. I had been here once, before they shipped me off to Neromenian. I was remembering things I had no desire to recall…child hood memories of fear.

"Why? Does this scare you, Sorrow's Blood?" Fenris's thin-lipped smile was just as cruel as Hadrianna's could be in that moment.

"Don't mock me!" I snapped, whipping my head around wildly. Of course I was frightened, I was terrified. What did he know of these markets? Danarius had let it slip that Fenris had always been his slave, since he was born. He had never been shoved through a crowd of sweaty bodies, ripped from the arms of one surrogate mother after another. I could _remember_-

"Lethallan! Asha-vhen!" Fingernails scraped across my arm as we passed one of the cages and I leapt back. An elven man was reaching for me, his face traced with the vallaslin. There was pain and panic in his eyes as he grasped at my hand desperately and I tried to wriggle away. He was begging me to listen to him, begging me to help him. To look for someone…a child? A lover? My grasp of the elvish language was sub-par and I only knew what I'd been able to pick up from-

"Release her!" Fenris slammed the flat of his broadsword against the cage bars. He grasped my other arm in his gauntleted hand and dragged me up the steps after him before Hadrianna could properly notice that we'd fallen behind. My irritation with him flared, despite the obvious boon he'd granted me by dealing with the elf himself before Hadrianna could get involved. I stared at the sun baked steps and tried not to panic as we entered the grand building and the shouting lessened. Contracted slaves apparently did not scream for freedom.

The marble halls were oddly quiet apart from Hadrianna's echoing footfalls, quiet and cool enough that it gave the impression of a tomb. I matched Fenris's pace, resisted the urge to step on his bare heels in vengeance. Yes, this life was horrible. Yes, I knew it was. Yes, it made me feel sick and panic sometimes. But right now, there was no use in being frightened…he was looking at me. I returned the gaze and his flickered away and refused to meet mine, his lips twisting into a grimace.

"Abelina, Fenris. I want you to stand guard here. Don't move. I will return with what I need momentarily." Hadrianna disappeared into a large room at the end of the hall we had entered into. I waited until the double doors closed behind her to sink to my knees.

"Get up. What if she returns to find you-"

"Please don't. Not here, not right now." I sucked in a breath, pressed my forehead to the cool marble and exhaled.

"You know this place?"

"I was born here. Lived here. Sold here." Pressing my palms into the stone, I pushed back and struggled to get my bearings and push back the tide of sickness and fear that was rising in my belly. I'd just recovered my feet when Hadrianna returned, carrying what looked like a large earthen jug installed in a simple carrying harness. She handed it off to Fenris who slung it over his back carefully.

"Abelina? Come walk next to me and keep my confidence, my sweet." Hadrianna's voice dripped like honeyed vinegar, her cerulean eyes an almost electric blue in the gloom. She ran her fingers over the exposed skin of my back and squeezed my hip greedily, watching me for any sign of defiance as we walked together. Though I trembled, I endured her touch. "We're going to fetch a new slave today, just for today. Just a little one. Fenris, keep up."

The young slaves, the children, were kept separate from the adults. With only a few older slaves mixed in to keep them taken care of, they mostly slept. I remembered being one of them. I worried that she would cause havoc among them by insisting on giving them each a scrupulous once over. She only glanced at two or three of the terrified younglings before deciding they weren't worth her time.

"None of these will do, bring three of the non-contracts in. I want alienage quality for my experiment." I heard a tiny click from somewhere to my right, it took me a moment to realize that it was the sound of Fenris gritting his teeth. Experiment?

"Milady, we don't deal in non-contract slaves-"

"You dare to defy the daughter of the Black Divine herself? An apprentice of one of the most powerful magister's in the Imperium?" A tang like a rusty blade touched the air which seemed to warm ever so faintly with a pulse. The scrawny dark-haired slave dealer paled visibly and ran his tongue over his cracked lips nervously.

"I…right away, milady Hadrianna." The man returned a moment later with four children, two male and two female. I cast my gaze elsewhere, my feeling of nausea worsening. They were filthy little things, thin and trembling with terror and exhaustion. I didn't want to see them, to bear witness to their abuse-

"Abelina, I want you to choose a child. I'm sure one of the dalish would know a good youngster when she saw one." The worship in the children's eyes is sickening and my hand flutters to press against my lips but I change the gesture to curl a stray strand of hair behind my sore ear tip, trying to smile reassuringly as I bend on one knee before the children.

"A dalish?" The slaver who brought in the non-contracts takes a step back, eyes widening.

"Oh, I assure you, she's mostly harmless. And when she isn't…well, that collar does the trick." I swallow and try to focus on my task and ignore their banter.

Sarnai often brought me along to auctions where she procured her riding stock, sometimes even entrusting me to purchase the horses I deemed fit enough. I tried to translate what I had learned there into human terms as I examined each child. The first was a boy, bright red hair and liquid brown eyes…a little too liquid and with a rattle to his breathing. He was sick, or getting there. The next was a girl, her brown hair cut short and her ears sticking out at odd angles. She was homely looking, from poor alienage stock. No good. And then, with ice blue eyes and hair like frost, was the second boy.

"This one." I did not even spare the fourth child a glance, it was clearly this child who was the superior to his brethren. He did not look like much, caked in grime as he was and with a look so sad a pathetic you could not help but want to wipe away the tears on his face. And so thin…but he would bulk up and be strong, I was certain. A diamond in the rough, as the dwarves say.

"Hmm." Hadriana bent to examine the child more thoroughly and I internally pleaded with him not to cringe. He didn't, but his gaze remained on me. Plaintive, desperate. "He'll do."

"Ah, had a feeling she'd pick this one. There was one of their Dalish leaders in the cage with 'im. Pushed this one right to the front of the line so we could take 'im. They're not stupid, they know being sold as a non-contract here is a thousand times better 'en being sold on the streets. We'll prepare him for you, Milady?" The man smiled greedily and took the boy I had chosen by the shoulders, steering him away. We turned and left, I with Fenris's glare boring a hole in the back of my head.

* * *

><p>Herous. That was his name.<p>

He tripped along between Fenris and I, having detached himself from my side moments ago when Hadrianna shouted at him for clinging. I was surprised all she did was shout, actually. But perhaps beating a child slave in public is frowned on even in the heart of Minrathous. He was freshly washed so that his pale skin gleamed with frigid droplets only now drying in the sun light and the arid climate. The simple, ragged blue tunic he wore belted around his waist with a bit of gray rope…much to big for his little frame.

"Will I get tattoos like yours?" He whispered, in a voice almost to quiet to catch. He looked between Fenris and I in awe.

"I…" Frankly, I was at a loss as to how I should reply.

"No," Fenris muttered bluntly. "And you shouldn't want them, they're very painful."

"Why aren't your tattoos the same? Are they not the marks of your masters?"

"Be quiet." Fenris snapped, glaring Herous into silence. I returned the glare, venom for venom, over the top of the little elf's head.

"That's his way of saying yes, his tattoos are the marks of his master. But it is rude to say so, or to say anything without his expressed consent." The sweetness in my voice was genuine in it's reassurance but Fenris was quick to catch my mocking:

"Abelina's tattoos are called _vallaslin_; they are the markings of her Dalish clan. I'm sure she can entertain you for hours with stories about her heritage." I cringed and cursed Fenris internally as Herous turned his attention back to me, awe and admiration plain on his face. That was the peak of cruelty, to force me to be the one who dashed the little boy's desperate, faint hope.

"There will be plenty of time for stories later, Herous. For now we must remain quiet and walk behind Mistress Hadrianna." I spoke the white lie through gritted teeth and watched Fenris's smile go from amused at his own cleverness to fury at my audacity.

"Do we live in a big house?"

"Quiet." Fenris and I hissed in unison and not without a note of fear. Hadrianna glanced back at us, the ice in her gaze at odds with the sultry curve of her lips. She beckoned to Hadrous and he trotted up beside her, perhaps emboldened by the support of two elder slaves. She ran a hand through his snow white hair, mussing it like a caring mother and smiling at us. We, who knew how quickly a delicate touch could turn into a death grip.

For a moment, Fenris and I could care less about our dislike for each other. We were united in fear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Sorry, bit of a slow chapter this. I've been agonizing over it, actually. But I need to introduce yet a few more OCs and stuff and I've been holding off on it in hopes of putting the finishing touches on my Tom Riddle/OC chapter but finally felt that, due to all the favs alerts and reviews I've been getting on this(I love all of you and you'll never know how much I really appreciate the feedback!), I'd update. Even if that chaps a little rough round the edges. Been a tough week :/. But enjoy! :D

"_War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength."_ **~ George Orwell**

"But-"

"Obey. Just obey her. It is not difficult and I cannot always be there to coddle you. I have my own duties to Danarius. You were an investment, Lacrea shouldn't feel the need to kill you so long as you remain docile and obedient. You are good at that." Fenris sniped, not without a certain amount of mocking and malice in his voice. If I didn't feel so scared, I might have been angry with him.

I grasped for his arm but he pulled away from me and glared, tightening a strap on his armor with an edge of finality. He turned and exited the armory, storming down the hallway with me at his heels. I could not ask him to stay, he was also a slave and had no choice. But it was foolish to think that he wasn't relieved to be able to spend a week away from me.

"You are an intolerable ass." I snapped back, my patience at an end.

"Oh look, you're learning new words. How quaint for a barn slave turned Dalish." He seemed mildly amused despite his gritted teeth

"I really hope you fall off the boat in Rivain and something eats you." I called after him, my hands fisted at my sides as I watched him leave through the back door.

* * *

><p>"<em>Vir sulahn'nehn<em>

_Vir dirthera_

_Vir samahl la numin_

_Vir lath sa'vunin!"_

My nurse mother in the cage was dalish. I remember, and this is what she used to sing at the end of the day. When they carried away the bodies of slaves who had died from the heat, from the stress and the pressure. Or just those who had been used as blood sacrifice's. In great carts of bodies they would carry them away, under a setting sun that bled it's colour across the pallid evening sky.

She was very much _my _nurse mother, too. The other children she would tend occasionally but most she left to the other's in the cage with us. Of which she was the eldest, her hair as silver as moonlight and her eyes a steady, golden brown. We would pass the long hours of sitting in the cage together and she would plait my hair and tell me stories. She recounted a variety of things, from children's tales to the legends of her people. Stories of the old pantheon of the Dalish gods and goddess's almost lost to them through the ages of their oppression. The tales kept me from thinking about the persistent ache of hunger in my belly and the cries and screams of those who surrounded us.

I remember running my bleeding fingers across the markings, of asking her how she got them. She told me and had described their meaning in detail. That part I had forgotten…but not how beautiful they were to see, or how sad my admiration had made her. She had been the Keeper of her clan and they had foolishly stayed too long in the shadow of a human city. The slavers had come at night and very few of her people had surrendered to be taken alive. In truth, I think she was the only one to have been taken and not for want of trying to die to defend her clan.

"Many Dalish die in slavery, dalen. They are rude to their masters and are killed or they simply grow weary of living and die of their sorrow. But let us speak of better things, da'vhenan."

There were not many better things to speak of when trapped in a cage. But she would try to create them for me, weave tales when things got truly horrible. Some of her stories, some of my favourites, were about elaborate escape attempts. In one, we were saved by a dragon witch named Flemeth. Ridiculous flights of fantasy…and yet some of the happiest memories of childhood. There was some thick, murky horrible memory of dread between those and my time as a stablehand, but I could not quite recall-

I glanced up in surprise, thinking that I might have missed an order of some kind. But no, Lacrea was merely laughing at something the merchant she was conversing with had said. I sighed, discreetly fidgeting with my tight leather gauntlet's and picking at the laces in an attempt to loosen them. The heat of the noonday sun made me prone to daydreaming and to cycling over conversations I wanted to try and have with Fenris. I should have given up long ago as all the other house slaves had. The lyrium made it impossible to have a conversation with Fenris, he was always so pained by them that civility was asking too much.

He'd certainly made no attempt to hide his relief from me this morning when he'd left me to my own devices. Sink or swim was the euphemism he'd barked at me, snapping in annoyance that my gauntlet's were so lose they were dragging over my knuckles. He'd also tightened them…excessively. His hatred was undeserved and had I not been forced to spend nearly every waking moment with him, I do not think I would have bothered to spare him a second thought. As it was, I had too much time for idle fancies. At the stable, I always had a job to actively take part in. Working for Lacrea, she merely needed my presence. I brushed her hair, helped her into and out of her clothes and listened to her speak at me while I attended her. It was not strenuous, which made it easy to forget.

"Dalish, come a bit closer that I might look on you." The merchant beckoned me and I stopped myself a fraction of a second before I moved forward, looking to Lacrea for her consent. She rolled her eyes and nodded, as though I were a bother. She was merely disappointed she did not get a chance to correct me publicly. I approached the jewelry merchant and dropped briefly to one knee before standing once more. "Oooh, tattoos. I love their tattoos. Were you a hunter, slave?"

"My clan was killed when I was very young, milady. I forget for what purpose I was intended." As I spoke, the age old wonder that I had dwelled upon when I was a child stirred with in my breast. Had my mother been a huntress? Had she cared for me, even though I was a child she had been forced to have? What of my father?

"May I?" The merchant reached out tentatively with a bangled hand, looking to Lacrea for consent that she might touch me. Lacrea nodded proudly and the woman reached out to touch my hair, running her ringed fingers through it and tearing out a few strands as she went. I winced and shivered with the tiny pinpricks of pain, feeling her long nails trace across my ear tip. I hated the touching more than anything, even though I was getting used to it. "She's still a bit skittish."

"She's very young, very fresh."

"You and Danarius have always had such a masterful way with your slaves. To tame a Dalish without breaking her is skill indeed." Lacrea smiled and thanked the woman before buying a few pieces of jewelry and I followed after my mistress complacently; a newer, more ornate collar fixed around my throat.

The now feather light silver still felt as heavy as the steel band it had replaced.

* * *

><p>In the days since Fenris and Danarius's departure, I had been left mostly to my own devices while Lacrea slept. I wandered about the opulent manse in search of ways to occupy myself and attempting to breach the statute of silence between the house slaves and myself. In the stable, we'd always been very social with one another. It had helped ease the tedium and keep everyone as happy as they could be. We'd worked together.<p>

The chamber maids practically fled every time they saw me and I had yet to find my way to the kitchens where, according to Fenris, we were not welcome. I'd snarled under my breath that maybe we would be if he wasn't such an unpleasant prig whenever occasion to speak to anyone arose. Needless to say, I earned myself the silent, brooding treatment after this inference for most of the better part of the rest of the week.

Having despaired of my search after three days of trying, I was making my way back up the richly carved staircase when I felt eyes on me. I glanced up and nearly tripped up the stairs in my surprise. The elf was sitting astride the banister, his clear blue eyes glinting in the torch light as the orange glow set off every plane of his angular face and surprisingly well-muscled frame. Blonde hair that was damp with sweat was pulled back in a short ponytail and he was wearing nothing but some sort of impractical looking leather armor skirt.

"I…I…" I blithered mindlessly, my mind entirely boggled by the unexpected presence of the very masculine elf. His sumptuous lips twitched up into a full blown smirk, the kind a cat would give a pigeon. I gathered my wits enough to sound vaguely threatening, taking another step so that I was at least level with him and speaking. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here." He replied, with a voice like cream. Lithely and slowly, he touched one bare foot to the carpet and bent his other leg to his chest, slinging a lazy arm around it to keep it in place. He gave me an appraising look, lingering long enough over my features to make my mock dalish armor feel too hot and too tight. "But you…you're that new attendant slave. Ab-something? How about I call you Abbie."

"My name is Abelina." I took a step back from him as he eased himself off the banister with practiced grace and approached, giving ground. He was…very different. To any slave accustomed to living in a large mansion with rich masters, it would have been glaringly obvious why he was different. But I was naïve.

"And mine is Leros. You'll see more of me when Danarius isn't home, though I live here all the same." His grin widened and my discomfort increased. I think I understood what he was implying and it was a source of shame that I had to clarify:

"You are a…body slave? For Lacrea?" I set out a hand to lean against the wall and missed by a wide margin, stumbling sideways clumsily and smacking my head on the banister, mercifully recovering my balance before I could embarrass myself further.

"I am indeed." He was studying me carefully for my reaction, one eyebrow raised and a nonplussed expression on his face. So, Lacrea had a whore. I wasn't surprised, just…ashamed. Not of Leros, but of myself. Carnal knowledge was not something I was privy to and it made me feel childish to know so little of it. The silence stretched and I forced myself to speak before it would become an offensive pause.

"A pleasure to meet you, Leros." Even speaking his name felt strangely sensual, the way the tip of my tongue slid across the roof of my mouth and touched the tip of my front teeth. Leros laughed his throaty, husky chuckle and stepped down onto the landing with me, folding his arms over his chest and smiling.

"I think I like you better than Fenris already. Pretty manners, gorgeous figure and a lovely blush. They say some women blush all the way down to their thighs, you know." He reached for my wrist and placed an open-mouthed kiss where gauntlet met hand. Looking up at me through a fringe of gold lashes, he smiled against my skin. "And the pleasure…is all mine."

"I should be returning to her chambers-" He tightened his grip on my wrist and had I not looked back to see his expression was merely friendly, I might have fought him.

"I wouldn't. She is sated and peaceful for now, but better a young, pretty female not enter the room. She's given to fits of jealousy, especially after sex. I don't suppose she's fed you?" He rolled his eyes and looked at me, his lips twisting in a mildly worried expression.

"I…well, no." I was touched by his concern and, against my better judgment, he truly did seem trustworthy.

"I know her habits well. She thinks first of herself. Come with me, and I'll show you the kitchens." I stood there for a moment, dithering and unsure as to whether or not I should trust him and follow. How could it be coincidence that when I'd finally given up hope, the domestic staff decided to reveal themselves? Leros paused, sensing I was not behind him and glanced back over his shoulder, the twist of position making the lean muscle ripple beneath his golden skin. Creator above…

"Come along, Abbie. I promise not to ravage you."

* * *

><p>The house slaves were actually quite nice to me, after Leros managed to coax them out of the various corners they scuttled to when I passed. Apparently, they were all under the impression that I would behave just like Fenris. Aggressive and violent and full of loathing for them. Feren was the cook, Ghalia and Titia her assistants. Jaram was the gardener. Kabas and Nerue were the two manservants, Hyrean and Cada were the chamber maids. There was a female body slave, currently away with Danarius, named Desmiane. Countless others existed as well, many of whom I forgot their names almost immediately after I was introduced. It was a well-established routine that they all meet in the kitchen, around the large rectangular cutting board and shared some dinner.<p>

"She should join us, when her duties permit it." Leros suggested around a mouthful of bread, giving me a sultry wink.

"I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"As long as you don't bring Fenris, we're happy to have you. I can't imagine lyrium lunatic is much company. Besides, we're the eyes and ears of this place. You can learn all sorts of things." I hesitated, looking around at them and ignoring it when Leros's knee bumped into mine under the table. They gave me baleful, pleading looks and I sighed.

"When my duties allow it."

"I shall try and keep Lacrea occupied enough so that you might slip away more often, then." The maids tittered as my blush betrayed me and I brushed a stray strand up hair back behind my ear.

We talked long into the night and I learned more from them in the hours we spoke than Fenris had taught me in a week. They knew of Herous, which is what interested me most: how the child slave faired in Hadrianna's hands. I was informed that, while he had a few extra bruises, she had not yet killed him. My horror must have been written clearly on my face, for Leros refilled my mug of cheap ale and placed it within my reach. Hyrean squeezed my hand gently, her pale gray eyes pitying.

"There are worse fates for a child slave to suffer than to become a magister apprentices assistant." The body slave murmured, his voice not without a note of bitterness. "And since Hadrianna has no interest in men or boys, we need not fear on that count. Drink."

Eventually, many of the other slaves retired to their quarters for a nights rest. I traced my finger tips through the melting wax that pooled and dribbled down the candle holder, relishing the mild burn that licked at my sensitive skin. Leros was telling me something amusing and I was half-listening, my eyelids drooping with exhaustion.

"-most body slaves are bred from Dalish stock." I jerked my head off the table so quickly I nearly tumbled backwards.

"I'm not actually-"

"But your parents were. So were mine. I can tell by the ears, our's are longer, sharper." As he said this, he reached and stroked the rim of my ear with his index finger. I shuddered and felt a hot spike of need shoot through my belly. "More sensitive."

"I grew up in the market and I was sold to a horse mistress. I worked the stable there until Danarius bought me three weeks ago." The story of my life, boring as it was, spilled from my lips before I could think to silence myself. Fenris was never interested in hearing me speak or offer my opinion, felt no connection to me and sought none. This was…strange.

"Are those euphemisms?" Leros made a face and I stared at him blankly. What was he-_Oh_. Creator help me.

"Ah, no." I shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. "That's actually what happened. My caretaker in the cage, she hid me from certain buyers. I was too young to understand why."

"You're lucky." Something like envy flickered across his face as I stood up, eager to make myself scarce.

"I don't think so. I am not half so tempting as you-" I stammered to a halt, horrified by what had just come out of my mouth. What an insult and after how polite he had been to me, too. "That-I didn't mean to-!"

Leros hopped off his stool with cat-like grace, stepping uncomfortably close to me. I didn't cringe, if he was going to hit me, I deserved it. Still, the closeness felt supercharged and I winced as he reached up to touch my jaw. The touch was not like Danarius's or Lacrea's, but I was still so unused to it that it made me shake.

"My mother sold me, right out of the alienage when I was twelve. Luckily, she picked a good brothel to sell me to. High class. Danarius picked me out as Lacrea's birthday gift five years ago. I'm not insulted, Abelina. But don't be foolish…you're as fair as Desmiane." A few weeks prior, I would have panicked and tried to strike him. But I had become so used to trying to endure people's casual touch that I couldn't even think to pull away. That and the initial confusion as to what his intention was in the seconds that he turned my chin and brought his lips to mine.

My shock was quickly dampened by my curiosity. This…felt strangely good, this kissing. When he released me, I stumbled forward before pushing against his shoulders and righting myself. Surely I must have looked a horrible fool, gawking at him and horrified by what had just occurred. He stared back at me, his blue eyes impassive in an entirely different way than Fenris's were.

"You weren't lying. The Maker must have blessed you with uncommonly good luck to still be in possession of such genuine innocence." There was a coldness to his words I did not fancy hearing and I took one measured and careful step back from him. Wrong. I was so awkward and imbecilic and unintentionally insulting…and for some reason cared very much about this man's opinion of me.

"I must seem…ungrateful and indulgent. I am sorry, Leros. I am unused to having a friend-" That phrase sounded ill-suited to the situation and yet I stumbled on: "-who is a male. I mean a male friend who is not Fenris who is…well, not that Fenris and I are friends-" The very idea was ridiculous. What I was saying was ridiculous…I glanced up at Leros pathetically. Any perceived coldness in his features was gone and it looked as though he were fighting back a smile.

"Run off to bed Abelina. You are forgiven, if only so that you will not tempt me further." He stepped forward again and I quaked with terror as he placed a quick kiss on my brow. "Goodnight."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** LONG WAIT. Sorry about that…a fairly decent sized chapter, more coming soon. I kind of ran out of inspiration for a while there but now I am recharged! Also, anyone looking for more dragon age-y stuff should check out the author PendragonProphecy. Hear she's a bamf ;). Read and review, dearies.

"_It is not death or pain that is to be dreaded, it is the fear of them." _**~ Epictectus**

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><p>The Fade was unusually barren as I wandered it's various planes, my bare toes digging into the cracked mud and powder soft dust that caked the windswept cliffs. It was demon territory and as a little untrained and as of yet unremarkable mage, I felt uneasy. I padded to a small overhang of dark, sharp obsidian and curled up beneath it, tucking my knees close to my chest. Staring out into the perpetual dusk that cast it's grayish yellow light across the world I wished I could return to my comforting nightmares instead of dwell here.<p>

"Da'len-"

"Stop it." I snapped, without raising my head from my folded arms. "Silence, demon."

It wasn't the Keeper, not really. The desire demon had dogged me for years now. Once, after a beating, I'd nearly accepted her offer. Never since and yet the creature kept trying. It had even reasoned with me for a while, something that normally gained it more of an audience than it's shape-shifting lies. Almost as I thought it, the Keeper's face melted off the demon. The female being sighed, stretching out her supple purple legs and leaning back like she was lounging on the shore of a beach. She glanced over at me with her slanted yellow eyes, wetting her pouty lip with a forked tongue.

"Oh come now, we usually play for longer than that. Trouble in the mortal sphere?" I glanced at her and she giggled coquettishly, pinching her shoulders together so her scaled cleavage was highly visible.

"Go away, Jilaneve."

"Ooooh, how many times have I asked you to call me Jilly? But that's right, you can't. You're a slave, you can only use titles…" She took on Lacrea's form and sneered at me petulantly.

"Please stop." I slumped to the yellowed, dusty ground.

"Oh, little mageling. I'm just trying to help you, can't you see? I want to be free of the fade and you want to be free of your masters-"

"Please…find someone else to annoy." Gathering myself I stood and glared down at her. She gave me a lopsided grin and stroked my thigh with the back of her hand, taking on Leros's face.

"Until next time, then, vhenan'ara." She looked around in surprise and then her grin widened, showing her sharp fangs.

"What?"

"Somebody's in trouble…" Her singsong voice faded as I felt my corporeal body heaved out from wherever it was dozing and tossed to the ground.

My head connected hard with the cobbles and I gasped with shock, feeling the grit grind into my palms and trying to orient myself. I was…I had been training, yes? With a groan I remembered: Fenris had been asked to put me through my paces, a series of lessons in basic weapon training. Extremely basic. Just enough so that I wouldn't trip and fall on my blade.

"Fasta vass! Get up! I will tell you when you can rest!" I struggled to my feet, coughing slightly. My lungs still hadn't recovered from the run to Minrathous and it was hard to catch my breath. I scrambled to exit the field house, grabbing the practice sword and dragging it out to the courtyard reserved for Danarius's sanctioned duels. It was some ridiculous hour of the morning, a time set aside specifically because we were not needed during it.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, the guilt written in my features as clearly as the exhaustion. I was very tired and I struggled to raise the wooden sword into a suitable guard. Blindingly fast in his frustration, he slapped the feeble defense away and bowled me over. I slammed into the ground again and again over the next half an hour as Fenris stubbornly persisted, taking out all his frustration by batting me to the ground like a cat with a mouse. Dalish armor was hugely impractical and a thousand tiny scrapes and scratches cut little stripes of ruby through the flesh of my belly.

At last, I collapsed one final time, breath whooping like a seals as I gagged and panted. Fenris ripped the practice sword from my hands and tossed it across the courtyard carelessly, spitting in the sandy ground near my face. I winced and rolled on my back, using my aching arms to push myself into a sitting position and pushing sweat soaked strands of my pale hair back from my eyes.

"You're _hopeless_! You don't show even the tiniest bent of skill to any fighting class! To frail to wield one of these-" Fenris unceremoniously dropped his great sword on me as I tried to rise to my feet and the weight forced me back to a sitting position. "-too slow and clumsy to dual wield with the skill of a rogue."

"Because repeatedly slamming the flat of your blade into my spine has been truly an informative experience! You're skill as a teacher must be unparalleled throughout all of Minrathous and Nevarra!" I snarled with huffing force, catching my breath and wheezing as I shoved the ridiculously heavy great sword off my chest. Fenris looked apoplectic at this statement as I finally regained my footing.

The issue here was clear: I was not much of a fighter. But the larger trouble was that being neither a warrior nor a rogue left a logical conclusion that Fenris had yet to come to. I did not think it likely he would figure it out on his own but in the meantime I was at a frantic struggle to prove I could excel at something or else dissuade him entirely. I grabbed the two wooden practice knives and held them up pathetically.

Five minutes later I was down again, shaking and trembling with the effort it took merely to breathe.

"You!" He roared, his husky voice tearing through an octave as I lay in the sand on my back.

"Me…" I panted, spitting out a gob of bloody saliva.

"You _are _a slave! You're the _perfect _slave! You haven't the strength of will to stand and fight me, to fight anyone. You are powerless, complacent!" Fenris' sneer was almost as intolerable as the pain that raged through me with each twitch of an overtaxed muscle.

"There's no reason…to fight…" I panted, each breath hurt almost as much as his words. Because he was right and so was I. There was nothing to fight for, no future beyond tomorrow. His rage was pointless.

"No reason? Is your pain not enough of a reason? Do you desire more incentive? Get up! GET UP!" He roared, raising his sword above his head and bringing it down in an arch. I cringed even as the sword stopped, inches above my neck. He twisted, buried it's tip in the sand inches from my face and then turned on his heel. He paced, chuckling bitterly.

"Pathetic. Pitiful. Subservient. And Lacrea and Danarius think that you can be pawned off on the other magister's as a dalish? Not an ounce of pride…but then, what do you have to be proud of?" What did I have to be proud of? Being a mage? No, I had never been brave enough to reveal it or been able to reach my magic in any tangible way. I had hidden, but out of fear and weakness. The dalish mother and father I had never met? I had often hoped they were dead and never imagined the unlikely possibility that maybe they were free. Death was freedom of the most terrible kind, but it was the only kind I believed existed. I had forgotten the Keeper's stories of hope. It was too painful…

"You don't even have the consciousness necessary to deny it, to challenge me and rise. You're weak." His figure blotted out the wan, early morning light as I pressed a hand to my burning ribcage and lay there.

"What's going on in here?" The shrill voice cuts through my misery and shocks Fenris into taking a step back. I force myself to look across the courtyard at the soft, blue suede toes and the lavender hem of the mages robes I know all too well. The painful ache in my body as I struggle to stand and bend into a more subservient position is unbelievably strong. Black spots swirl before my eyes.

"Mistress Hadrianna. It was a training bout…I am well now. How may I serve?" She considers my reply for a moment, trying to find some fault in it. Finding none, her reptilian gaze narrows as she takes in my grimy and sweaty body. With one swift step, she is frighteningly close to me. Only exhaustion keeps me from flinching as she places on ice cold hand on my chin and turns it from side to side, scrutinizing my face.

"Where's your collar?"

"I-" Fenris had helped me remove it before the bout, I had no clue where it was now. I could see his face pale over Hadrianna's shoulder. "The collar slowed me, Mistress. I removed it."

"Did you?" She asked, a false sort of levity to her voice. She struck me hard enough to send me sprawling in my weakened state. My head cracked against the corner of the table and I bit back a cry of pain and huddled on the ground.

"Never lie to me. You could never have gotten it off by yourself, Fenris removed it, didn't he?" The pointed toe of her boot nailed me between my ribs and I gasped as my body bucked with the force of her kick.

"Go fetch her collar, now." Fenris' feet made a soft scuffing noise in the sand as he walked by me.

"Do you know what it will mean the next time I catch you with your collar off, Abelina?" Hadrianna clutches my chin and tips my head up to look at her. Her bluer than blue eyes look ever more alien each time I see her. "I'll take it as an escape attempt. But don't worry, I'm not blaming you for this time. This time, it was the Little Wolf's fault and _he's _who I'm going to punish."

The thought of her punishing Fenris upsets me for some foolish reason. Removing my collar…he was only being kind. Even if he'd put me through hell already this morning. Hadrianna released my chin and smiled down at me, the smile of a weasel that shows all of it's tiny, yellow fangs. I hope desperately that she will not hurt Fenris too badly, surely she cant? He's too valuable to Danarius-

"Mistress." Fenris returns and, wheezing through the blood drying in my nose, I look up at him. His face is perfectly neutral, but I know he is seething with hatred. There is no one on earth he hates more than the woman standing over me in her sky blue robes. Fenris may obey, but he is not a slave. No beating will break him entirely to her will, no amount of pain. This is the difference between us, what he has and I do not.

I cannot hate Hadrianna, only fear what she is about to do to him. He will resist, and that will only make his punishment that much more severe. Maybe, if he just bent his knee, she would not be so intent on hurting him. Maybe if he apologized, even though the fault is no one's and the transgression fabricated…

"Put them back where they belong, Little Wolf." Fenris kneels down beside me as I sit up, leaning against the center table. With a glance, I try to tell him how sorry I am. He does not meet my gaze and his teeth are gritted, tension in his jaw. Gently, he snaps the clasp shut at the nape of my neck; his clawed gauntlets dragging across my collar bones as he reaches for each lyrium laced cuff, slipping them onto my wrists. Gracefully, he regained his feet and bowed low to Hadrianna.

"I'm going to punish you, Fenris." Hadrianna murmurs, fingering her mage staff and considering the dried blood under her fingernails. His shoulders seemed to relax somewhat, the tiniest glimpse of relief in his dark green eyes. "There must be consequences for our actions, don't you think?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other." The wicked smile curled the corners of her lips and she turned to look down at me kindly. If the quick thrill of fear and dread was not enough to warn me, the suddenly shocked look on Fenris' face should have given it away. The lyrium in my collar and cuffs flared to life and I cried out, my back curving and every limb snapping rigidly straight with the shock. As quickly as it had come, the burning pain disappeared and I panted, staring at my wrists. There were no marks.

"Lyrium burning. The Little Wolf knows how much it hurts to have raw lyrium touch the skin. It's like you're getting a fraction of that pain, but without the tattoos." The pain floored me, so sharp and fast it took my breath away. Fenris was fighting to keep his face expressionless and through a haze of pain, I tried not to whimper. So weak, the entire day had just been an emphatic reinforcement of what he thought of me. I was feeling only a fraction, Hadrianna said. How pathetic that I could barely endure what he had lived through.

"No, don't get up." Another bolt of pain to flash through me and my shaking limbs failed me. It came in bursts, each one stronger than the last. The fifth one was an agony so sharp it made me scream and clutch at my throat. _Weak, so weak._

"Aren't you glad you can help Fenris see the err of his ways, Abelina?" My sobbing was pitiful as it rose to a shriek when she used the lyrium again. This time, the pain didn't go away. It intensified until all the world was black and red and jagged with the agony. Until all I wanted was death and all I received was oblivion…

Blissful. Painless. Unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: Lucky ducks, you are. You get regular updates when the fans of my other stuff aren't so fortunate(I apologise! I really do…bit writer's blocked at the moment, but that will improve, I promise!). AND MUHUHUHUHHAAAAHHA! I defy you, ffnet! It was refusing to let me upload this cause of some discrepancy with file format that it's never had before. Hah! I showed you :P...You should all review, because it would make me insanely happy(You have NO IDEA. I squeal and spin around in my chair, sometimes I even knock things off my desk in a fit of pique JOY.)! :D Anywho, enjoy the chappie!

_"Courage is as often the outcome of despair as of hope; in the one case we have nothing to lose, in the other everything to gain_." **~Diane de Poitiers**

Diffuse lamp-light bathed the tiny room in a soft, golden glow and glinted off Fenris' scaled breastplate. He kept a grim vigil over the slight form lying in the narrow bed, his lyrium traced chin resting on his claw gauntleted knuckles and his limpid green eyes reflecting back a touch of the candle flame. The light glittered off the blue-ish lines of lyrium embedded in a collar and cuffs now ringed with a crust of dried blood and sweat. The offending objects lay on the bedside table-an apple crate propped on one end-looking deceptively harmless. Beside them sat an earthen jug of water, condensation dripping down it's red clay exterior.

It had been hours and she hadn't moved an inch since he'd rushed her up the narrow servant stairwell, the wailing sobs of the two maids and the curses of the cook echoing after him…

"Give her to me." He'd stumbled on the second to the top step, the voice startling him so much he'd nearly dropped her limp body.

"Pafinite abyssma, whore!" Fenris snarled, taking the last two steps in one bound and trying to quell his panic. It was just a lyrium burn, it wasn't like what Lacrea had done to Kataren…wasn't as though she'd been subjected to blood magic.

"Ah yes, I probably will." Leros murmured, his voice as smooth as Antivan silk even as his face remained grimly set. "You're in no position to refuse, Danarius is looking for you. Give her to me and I will see to it that Desmiane takes care of her."

"I-" Fenris swore loudly in Arcanum and handed over his burden.

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><p>Leros and Desmiane had left Abelina in her tiny room beside his own, tucked into bed and-Fenris swallowed slightly and stared at the somewhat threadbare Navarran rug beneath his bare toes-completely nude. It made sense, they'd had to bathe her of the blood and sweat and grime. She was clean…the bare skin of her shoulder's, though patched with a purpling bruise or two, was otherwise as pale and pure as cream…he glanced away again. Of course it had not occurred to <em>them <em>to preserve her modesty. But then, perhaps she had awoken and her skin had been too sensitive to bear-

_ PAIN. Sharp and fresh and vividly bright. Everything was pain, all was agony. His very flesh was a burning thing that hurt him with each soft breeze, even a gentle touch was too much to endure-_

Fenris gritted his teeth and shook his head, banishing the flashes of memory. Unthinkable. What Hadrianna had done was nothing more than a surface burn. After all, Abelina was alive. She was just…still unconscious. He uncoiled himself from the chair and crept to the bed once more, removing the cloth from her forehead and wiping the cool condensation off the jug of water before carefully replacing it. Not even so much as an eyelid flicker in reward for his efforts.

Her pale face was peacefully expressionless, the high cheekbones and childish little chin. Her nose with it's fine, dalish slope and the cupid bow of her full, pale lips. And carved and clawing at her fine features were the harsh, swooping lines of her false vallaslin. The way they traced her eyes, dark green ink so close one slip would have been blinding, then striking out in curves and thorns that rose to her forehead, disappearing under the cloth. The outlines around her eyes, there was something familiar about them…something feral.

"Has she woken up yet?" Fenris jumped at the sound of Desmiane's voice, glancing up at the pleasure slave as she slipped into the room from behind the panel. Her face was petite, childish in it's beauty. It was a feature incongruent with her feminine curves and it repulsed him. The visage of a girl and the desires and wanton manners of a woman

"No. Get out." He snapped, turning to glare at Desmiane as she tip-toed further into the room. She raised one eyebrow in a nonplussed expression, peeking around him to glance at Abelina.

"I'm just checking. She's been like that for a long time." She mused, fingering the gold tassels that belted a robe of sheer, sapphire silk.

"_Days _is a long time, she's only been unconscious for _hours_. Go away." Desmiane chuckled and slipped around him, going to kneel by the bedside and reaching for the cloth. Her face registered with some surprise as she touched it and realized it was damp. She glanced back at him, her inky hair sliding across her shoulders and baring just a glimpse of porcelain face.

"My my, you've actually been caring for this one. That's not like you, Fenris." She shifted the coverlet aside and reached for a slender, bandaged wrist. She whistled and turned back to him with her eyebrows raised. "Bandages!" Fenris growled low in his throat and Desmiane sighed, tucking the blankets back around Abelina's shoulders. She wet the cloth further and then squeezed out some drops of water so they trickled over the unconscious elf's unmoving lips. "I'm just surprised, that's all."

"I'll throw you out." He snapped, clenching his fists. Desmiane studiously ignored the threat, smoothing the cloth over Abelina's face before placing it back on her forehead. "Get. _Out_."

With an overly dramatic sigh and an eye roll, she stepped back and flounced towards the door before stopping and delivering her vicious punch line:

"You know, it'll be interesting to see how long she lives."

"Get out, whore!" He snarled at the panel as it clicked back into place.

He looked back down at Abelina's motionless body miserably. Nearly killed by Hadrianna this time and, much to his surprise, Lacrea had barely shrugged. _She wont fight them enough to make it enjoyable, she's too obedient. They'll kill her just trying to get her to rebel._ His gauntlet's clicked together and their tips pricked the flesh of his palm. Just like Kataren…obedient even as her Mistress drew forth every last pint of her lifeblood. And then, the true Dalish, Siel. Fighting her way through multiple guards, only to get turned around and finally…captured and horrifically punished. She'd flung herself off a balcony not a week later. Too little fight and too much. Fenris scoffed and rose so quickly he knocked over his chair, his expression as cool and remote as steel.

"Do yourself a favor…don't wake up."

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><p>I was in the Fade again, deeper than I'd ever been. Not in the gray yellow deserts of the demons, but somewhere with meadows and darkly hidden, murky woods. Down here, I was deep enough that physical pain could not touch me. Lost, but happily so. There was the occasional deer or creature that bounded across my path, but I had encountered no spirits. Perhaps I was safe from them, alone here. I lay in the grassy meadow and stared up at a pallid blue sky, the burning orb of a dreamy sun casting a harsh light over all it touched.<p>

"What are _you _doing here?" The voice was resonant and deep, female but thrumming with power. I pushed myself up on my elbows and regarded the elf woman from my reclining position.

"I'm a mage. I belong here." I retorted, lying back and focusing on the sky.

"You're not a dead mage. And none of the Tevinter's are careless enough to end up here…what's your name?" A nosy spirit…she looked down at me critically. A Dalish.

"Sorrow's Blood." I was sure I had said Abelina, but the Fade twisted my name to suit it's own purpose.

"Do you know who I am? Can you feel it?" Her voice thundered through the Fade, seem to wake something in me…a strange instinct, almost a desire and almost a memory. _Mother_. I shook my head and got up, walking away from the spirit.

"Go away, demon."

"**I am not a demon!**" I whirled on the figure and it took a sharp step back, surprised by my reaction. It still looked a little like the female dalish it had before, but the edges of the vision were wavering, as though under water. A soft, orange glimmer was in the depths of the eyes, feathering about the scarlet hair. Anger had suffused the pointed, elven features and the lip curled in a snarl.

"But neither are you my mother!" The orange glow calmed slightly and the spirit seemed repentant as it held out one pale, lily white hand to me.

"I knew your mother." it's voice returned to the familiar cadence and I winced at the humanity of it. Tricky, sly things. Desperate to be free of the Fade, so desperate that they would try anything.

"Even if that were true, you haven't told me what you are."

"**I have no name, but I am a spirit of Fortitude.**"The spirit's voice sounded subdued and it dropped the guise of my mother immediately. It's outline was still elven and feminine, but within the silouhuette glimmered and roiled a lava-like substance.

"Fortitude?"

"**Courage, little slave. I am Courage**."

"What do you want from me, Courage?" The word was strange on my lips, perhaps of Fereldan origin. Whatever it was, it did not have an equivalent in Arcanum.

"**I knew your mother. For a time, we shared a vessel.**" A vessel? My mother must have been a mage, then. And this spirit possessed her.

"Stop changing the subject. What do you want from me?"

"**You are dieing. I am here to help you.**" Impossible. The spirit was lying…it must have been. I would know if I was dying. It would take more than…that…to kill me. I rallied my strength, felt my physical body and tried to wake-No, that couldn't be right. Trying to hold onto that shred of reality was like trying to find purchase on an icy slope. _No_!

"Let me go! Release me!" But I was in an ocean of impossible depth, I was fighting for the surface…or was I swimming deeper? Water filling my lungs with a painless and inexorable death. NO! Warmth, strength plucked me from the sea, deposited me safely upon dry land. I opened my eyes to the flowing, gleaming body of the spirit encased in it's nimbus of orange

"**I cannot lie. You are trapped in the Fade, you have only so long until you yourself perish."** The elf-shaped orange glow shifted and seemed to dampen slightly, as though saddened by this revelation. I would not fall for it's tricks! I turned to leave, only to find myself standing on the brink of a cliff. A cliff-face on the side of an impossibly high mountain, all the colours bleached cold and bright. The orange gleam of Courage's being was the only shade of richness, the only fire in landscape of ice. Over the cliff-side, drifting layers of white cloud beckoned.

"How long is only so long? And how could you help me?" Spirit's didn't lie, but they were known to leave out essential bits of information, to lie by omission. I would not be tricked by something as mere as a sub-clause into surrendering my entire self to this being.

"**You allow me to link with your corporeal body so I may lead you from the Fade.**"

"A link? That sounds like possession."

"**It is not possession!"** The capacity that Courage had to sound offended was impressive. **"But neither is the link temporary. Ever after you awaken, we shall share a connection, little mage."**

"Why would you seek a connection with me? That certainly cant be comfortable for you, can it? Surely you want to be free of the Fade?"

"**You have a need of me and I would give you aid. You lack in strength and I have strength to offer. Is this not enough of a reason to seek a connection? Nothing, no spirit or demon, truly desires to be parted forever from what it is. Leaving the Fade would not be freedom**." The spirit…it-she-sounded sincere enough. Leaving the Fade would not be freedom…if I left the Fade and lived, what would that be? I was no freer to travel the corporeal sphere than Courage was. Was that really living? Was quietly dieing really so bad? I looked out across the distant expanse of mountain peaks, the clouds that hid what surely was a landscape populated by verdant green valleys, forests no one had fathomed the end of…a better death than the life I lead.

"**Do not take that road, mage. You have much more to exist for than you think**."

"Really? What future do I have as a slave?" I replied bitterly, glaring at the orange glow even as it flared like a hearth fire.

"**None can tell. But every creature has the potential for purpose.** **The mother you so yearn for was not content to lie down and die." **That was underhanded of the spirit to bring up my mother, to peak my curiosity.

**"**Did she…is she dead?" The query hurt me to speak, which was ridiculous. I was a score and one years old, it was nonsense that something so childish as my own maternity could still bother me.

**"Not dead, but deadened. Your mother was made Tranquil…such is the practice with mage slaves that continue to be useful to their masters. Before the rite, she willing accepted the connection between us, sought me out as the one force that could help her." **Tranquil. Not dead, but not really alive. My mind, for better or for worse, was made up.

"What will the connection be like?"

"**I will stay in the Fade…but my consciousness and essence will be with you always. We may speak on matters and I will lend you strength and aid. The relationship is mostly…altruistic.**"Another word that meant nothing in Arcanum. But it did not matter.

"Lead me back…Courage." Warmth, security, strength. All these things-forbidden to slaves-embraced me as I stepped off the cliff. Leant me wings of flame that did not scorch in the dream of a sun, but stood against the impossible brightness. That burned with life-giving light, with strength and hope.

* * *

><p>Fenris' eyes snapped open and he jumped up from the chair he'd fallen asleep in at the sound of her gasp. <em>Impossible<em>. Danarius had told him, displeased but not distraught, a few hours ago to 'dispose of the corpse, before it starts to rot'. Three days with not even the vaguest hint of movement, barely even a breath! Fenris went to approach the bed and it's occupant, who was trying unsuccessfully to push herself up on her elbows. Desmiane had returned on the second day to dress her in a shift so at least she was clothed…but her movements were weak, like a foal trying to gain it's feet.

"Abbie!" it was lucky that Fenris' startled swing had been meant for a full grown opponent, for it sailed right over Herous' head even as he checked the blow. The young elf bolted for her sickbed, stopping only when Fenris snatched his shoulder. He replaced his sword in it's sheath across his shoulders, looking down at the narrow bed where Abelina had finally managed to prop herself up. He wanted to feel relief…but for some reason, all he could feel was resentment. How dare she suddenly wake up? When they'd all given up hope that she would, when he'd held vigil over her immobile form for all his free hours-

"Van hedis, fasta vas!" He spat, startling Herous with his casual use of appalling language.

"Fenris is that-?" She paused, choking slightly and clearing her throat with effort. His irritation abated slightly when he heard the hoarseness in her voice. "Of course it's you, you're always overjoyed to see me."

"Three days, femina." He snarled between gritted teeth, releasing Herous and allowing him to jump up onto the bed. "Danarius was asking me to dispose of your body if you did not wake soon."

"I…that's not possible-AH!" She let out a cry of pain and Herous recoiled as she brought her bandaged wrists close to her chest.

"I'm sorry!" Herous flinched as though she might strike him as Fenris stormed over to where the jug of water sat and poured some into an earthen mug.

"No, no. You're fine, it's just-" Fenris winced at the look of fear on her face as she stared at the bandages, tentatively felt around her neck. Slowly, she began to unwind them and Fenris handed the water to Herous turning away so he would not have to bear further witness to the branded, angry flesh on her wrists. It wasn't tattooed, only burned. But still…too close to home for him to stand.

"Witness the price of your submission." He murmured, trying and failing to keep the spiteful edge from his voice. Hadriana had been enthusiastic with her flaring of the lyrium and a punishment that never should have left any physical evidence had resulted in rings of charred flesh. Fenris found himself half-hoping the injuries would never heal. Danarius would then perhaps feel justified in metering out some well-deserved punishment to his pet apprentice.

"Oh. I…_oh_." There was a hot, uncomfortable swoop of dread in Fenris' stomach at the tenor of her voice.

"Do they hurt? Don't cry!" Fenris turned and saw the elf boy wrap both his little arms around Abelina's shoulders, his expression terrified. Her face was buried in her hands, the areas of torn and purplish flesh evident across her delicate wrist bones. _This is your fault, you're the one who removed the damn collar in the first place! _Fenris gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to slam his fist into a door frame, if only so he wouldn't rouse Danarius and Lacrea. He couldn't…wouldn't blame himself for this. That's exactly what that bitch Hadriana wanted him to think.

Mere hours ago, there had been a comforting certainty that lulled him into slumber: she was dead. There was no more worry, no more pain, no more struggle. For better or worse, that little spark of brightness had been snuffed. The fear she would know nearly every day of her life was over. And she had suffered a merciful end, her screams had only gone on for fifteen minutes before her mind had given out and her body merely twitched at each new shock. The Maker-if there was one-had been kind. But no, now she was _awake_. Scrubbing the tears out of her eyes with the heel of her hand, careful not to rub her injuries. There was Herous as well, caring for her and sympathizing. He was too young to understand that he was being manipulated by his magister mistress. That physical slavery was only the beginning…they were fools.

"Fenris? Are you-"

"Drink that water. The entire pitcher. No excuses. Lacrea and Danarius will be pleased that their investment was not wasted." He snapped dismissively over her query; or thanks, whatever it was. "Herous, get back to Hadriana's chamber before she notices your absence. I hate to think how she would punish you for your compassion."

Abelina caught Herous just before he hopped off her bed, pressing her lips to his forehead and smiling at him wearily as he left, scooting out of the panel with a quick wave. He watched her wait until the wood slid back into place fully to bury her head in her hands once more and suck in a deep, shaky breath. Fenris scoffed at her weakness looking away for fear that his glare would falter and become sympathetic. The trauma couldn't be anything like what waking up covered in lyrium markings had been for him, the burns would fade…hopefully.

"I am…sorry." His apology was brittle, colder than he'd intended.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Fenris. I was so scared that what you were telling me about the magisters-Danarius and Lacrea and Hadriana-was true that I dismissed it. I mocked you and I deserve these." Fenris stared at her in shock, at the expression of agony and sorrow on her face. He fumbled to come up with a reply as she took a sip of her water, one solitary tear running down her cheek as the hand that held the mug trembled with effort.

"No living thing deserves what Hadriana did to you."

"Oh no?" She arched one eyebrow and smiled feebly. "I bet you a dinar I can name three people off the top of my head who deserve it."

"Don't be ridiculous, you don't have a dinar." Her fought the grin valiantly but it spread across his lips anyway. She beamed back at him and uttered a quiet laugh, wincing as the movement jostled her burned throat.

"Technicalities. But I see now, I understand what you were trying to tell me." She murmured, with more gravity and seriousness than he'd ever seen her display. "And…I'm ready to change it."

"Change it? Change what, exactly?" Maybe she'd hit her head during all the flailing she'd done before succumbing to the pain. Maybe Hadriana had driven her halfway to madness.

"Slavery, of course. That's what your always saying, isn't it? I mean, I don't think it will happen over night. I may have grown up in a barn but I'm not that stupid, just little things at first…why are you looking at me like that?" She cocked her head to the side curiously, blinking at him like a naïve fledgling.

"Abelina. _You _are a slave, _I _am a slave! We are _slaves_! Where did this misplaced idealism come from? I have been curt with you to make you afraid for your life! Not eager to fling it aside! Hadriana tortured you for no reason other than that she could and you want to _rebel_?" How could she look at him like that over the rim of her mug, so reasonably and calmly. She'd hit her head, there was no other explanation for contemplating impossibilities with such coolness. "You should be _terrified_!"

"Oh, I am terrified. Fenris, you've known me long enough to know how scared I was-_am_-but fear doesn't accomplish anything. But you're probably tired," She sighed and shook her head, still maddeningly blasé about her off-the-wall plans to put an end to slavery. "You should get some sleep."

"Tired! _Tired_, she says! Van hedis!" He snapped, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"Well, aren't you? I cant imagine sitting by my bedside afforded you much comfort or rest." She explained patiently, taking a far too convenient sip of her water that hid her expression from him.

"Oh, I assure you that I didn't lose any sleep over the three days you spent lounging in unconsciousness. Drink your water." He stormed from the room, checking himself in time to avoid slamming the panel too loudly.

_Fasta vas!_

* * *

><p><strong>End Note: <strong>I'm very tired, guys. But as clarification so I don't get people going 'Why is Abelina not a crazed spirit abomination like Anders?' the reason why is sort of simple. Canon doesn't really define spirit possession via any truly logical pathways, but the word on the street can discern 'gentle' possession from 'ANDRASTE'S FLAMING TITS! MIND RAPE!' possession by comparing the Faith/Wynne relationship against the Anders/Justice relationship. Without getting boring: Justice was a fully realized being when Anders who was chock full of resentment decided to play host to his essence. Wynne, older and full of wisdom, sort of almost already had a Fade connection with Faith being as that was a strong virtue of hers. Faith is still technically in the Fade, Justice was dragged kicking and screaming out of the Fade. How I see it, spirits and the Fade are like fish and water. You can take the fish out of the lake and put it in a fishbowl, but you can't fling the fish down in a dog crate and call that good. That made no sense. I'm sleeping now. Review :D


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